Hating Noah

Chapter 31

My hometown was full of drunk creeps who needed to reduce their love for alcohol and gain some control over their thoughts and actions.

Just because the government didn't use some common sense and built the recovery center far away from those same creeps, I found myself sitting in Noah's car, breathing the same air as him and feeling the need to puke due to my overwhelmed condition.

I wasn't happy with the fact that an eight-hour drive will eventually lead me to my father. The opportunity to overthink was given to me on a silver platter, and so for the first two hours of our silent car ride, I came up with some important matters:

First of all, we are not making any progress with our project, and the last thing I want is to fail that freaking class. Noah told me to trust him with the project, but does he expect me to sit back and watch him do nothing?

Second of all, if Noah is still dating the girl he desired to taste that day back in the cafe(probably at the restrooms, and yes, I am thinking of throwing up), I will kill them both(and no, if you are looking for jealousy, this is not the place).

Third of all, I broke down in front of him yesterday, gave him a part of myself without even realizing it. When I fell asleep in his arms, smelling my favorite combination of cigarettes and lemons, I felt like we belong together. Call me crazy, call me stupid.

I can't help how I feel, yet, the million-dollar question still seems to bother every living cell in my body.

Does he have any feelings for me?

We drove for at least five hours. The remarkable view turned darker and darker as every minute passed by, and I forced my eyes to stay open and not give in to the peace and warmth sleep offers to those of us who are lucky enough.

I almost patted myself on the shoulder as I recognized our final destination for the exhausting day.

"Take the left turn," my muffled voice made me sound like a male who is lacking some good sleep.

Noah's response was a raised eyebrow, and my only option was to provide him with a general explanation of how I spent the small amount of money I earned at the cafe.

"You need to rest before you keep on driving. Your body still has a lot of healing to do. I made a booking for a night in a small motel, so please take the left turn and stop with the disappointed look."

"You care about me too damn much," he shook his head angrily.

"So I care about you, Noah. Why can't you just accept it and move on?"

I more than cared about that guy, but that was a secret buried deep inside my heart, and I intended to keep it there for the rest of my life.

~~~~~~~~~

Noah Adams gave me the silent treatment.

For at least an hour( a terribly quiet one), I tried to understand how he ended up ignoring me. I should be the one screaming at him, blaming him for stealing my untrustful heart.

I should be the one hating him for pushing me away. For dating other women while I am sitting at home, waiting for him to return like a pathetic little girl who suffers from emotional eating because of his coldness.

After all, I should be the one ignoring him, not the other way around.

That night at the paid room, I decided to fight for myself, for my unsettled questions. I decided to confront him, to know the truth, to understand him a little better.

"You can't possibly be mad at me for caring about you, and you know it."

Noah made his way to our shared bathroom, not recognizing my presence. I followed him, refusing to give up like he wants me to.